Stop These Frozen Crystals
by TheLastofUs
Summary: He's beautiful. He's an angel. He's perfect. I love him. Antonio, he who can fight off darkness with a single word in a crisp Spanish accent. But he isn't mine. And I know he's happy without me, everyone is right? As long as Feliciano's here, that's all that matters. I know it is. *Rated T for self-harm and suicidal themes. Spamano vs. SpainxN.Italy Love triangle.
1. Stop These Frozen Crystals

_A/N at the top to not disrupt the ending:_

_Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope you like it. Just something that popped into my head while I'm being a depressed little child. Speaker is Romano._

* * *

_Stop These Frozen Crystals_

* * *

He's beautiful.

That's really the only word I can describe him with. His smile that lights up everything and blinds my eyes. I don't know how others look at him and don't have to squint through the light.

He's an angel.

That's really the only metaphor the suits him. Give him wings and a halo and he looks fit for the job—_acts_ fit for the job. _Is_ fit for the job. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say that he already had wings. Or was it that he'd given me his own to make my heart fly away?

I don't think I know any better.

He's perfect.

The only man that could ever make me come close to smiling.

And above all, he's loved by everyone—most of all me. Those who say they love him can't possibly love him more than I do. This is not an understatement. I don't think I could live without him. I can't imagine the world without his beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful _beautiful_ voice.

But he isn't mine.

Not that I care, as long as he's happy. He still looks at me, smiles at me, talks to me, that should be enough for me. I can't be greedy. After all, my brother would hate me for taking Antonio away from him. I can't upset Feliciano. I love them both—but in different ways.

People think I'm incapable of loving. Object or human alike, that's what they claim. They think I'm so angry and grump all the time. That I'm apathetic. Asexual. That I'll die alone—but perhaps that last one isn't entirely incorrect.

He isn't mine, though it's not like I can complain.

He's graced me with his existence and that's all I can ask. The kind words and nicknames I say I hate. The warm embraces I return with insults. I'm sure he thinks I hate him. That's what everyone thinks. Maybe even Feliciano. Does he think that?

I always thought Feliciano would go after Ludwig, but I am rather daft.

It did hurt a little when Feliciano told me he and Antonio were dating. It stung my heart like a wasp and it wilted my soul like a flower.

Just a smidge.

_"Guess what, fratello? Me and Toni are dating now!"_ is what I think his words were.

And the bastard next to him grinning like he always had. It looked so much more radiant. So much happier next to my brother's own. Such luster that made diamonds swoon. I guess Feliciano always did have that effect.

_"Does it look like I care? Go make out somewhere else_," I yelled at them with curse words in the mix, turning my back on them and I know they didn't see me cry.

Cry? No, no, I didn't cry. I promise I didn't. I'm happy Antonio's happy. That's all that matters. Feliciano's happy, Antonio's happy, who cares if the Grumpy Old Troll's happy? No, I didn't cry. I didn't cry with tears like frozen crystals. I didn't deserve to.

So why did I?

I could think of a million comparisons to make to his eyes. The deep green emerald eyes that I wish I could steal and keep forever. Just so they'd stay trained on me.

No, no, that's selfish. You can't say that.

Behind the security of my painted bedroom door is where I live. Where I can lay on my bed without having to worry about others seeing me. I would look up at the ceiling for hours; the plain white paint looked so intricate.

And I would hum a tune to myself in minor tunes. An E flat there, an A natural next. I love to sing, but I can't. That's for Feliciano. Feliciano is a wonderful, magnificent singer, but I can't sing. I like to though.

I hum a tune, a melancholy tune, under my tongue and it hides and it hides away. Beneath my vocal chords, it hides.

Behind the security of my painted bedroom door is where I live. Where I can cry stifling sobs without any ear to hear. And some days, I would pick up the silver. The shining metal that was sharpened and pointed. It would glide and it would slide across such a surface, with crimson chasing after it where it led its trail. The crimson that hid in my sheets and dove under my carpet.

But I wrapped the wounds in cloth and paper, leaving to together with a stripe of tape. And for an entire three years, one noticed the ever-present gauze on my left forearm. And yet, they notice a bruise the size of a nickel atop Feliciano's cheekbone.

"_I fell trying to make pasta_!" he said cheekily to the crowds of lovers that swooned and gave him a band-aid.

"_I cut myself because I know no one will care,"_ I said quietly to the barren walls of my room.

I love him.

Antonio, he who can fight off darkness with a single word in a crisp Spanish accent.

And I know he's happy without me, everyone is right? As long as Feliciano's here, that's all that matters. I know it is.

_Stop crying, stop crying, Stop crying, stop crying, Stop crying, stop crying, Stop crying, stop crying._

So no one would care if I just left one day right? Of course not.

_Stop crying, stop crying, Stop crying, stop crying, Stop crying, stop crying, Stop crying, stop crying._

And the cuts on my arms on my wrist on my leg. The slices on my arms on my wrists on my leg. Gashes on my wrists on my leg on my arms they grow wider, they grow thicker, they grow deeper, they grow longer.

And breathing was far too laborious a task. Maybe I should rest my eyes… Just for a… bit…

_I finally stopped crying._


	2. Dim Lights on Christmas Day

_Umm. Hi again! Bonus chapter maybe? This was recommended by Firestar67 and I thought why not? Thank you everyone who reviewed. It means the world to me and I just want to hug you all so tight you pop :3 _

_And also, I'm uuuber stressed over this thing so I shall rant on you poor people. _

_Okay. So. I have an all-state orchestra audition tomorrow for cello and my A string FREAKING BROKE! My parents don't have a replacement and since I have a ¾ size it's hard to get a new string without ordering online and taking WEEKS to get here. I'm like freaking out right now…_

_NOW_

_This will obviously be told in third person since it can't be told in first anymore… (too soon?) This takes place two days after the first chapter. Okai onto the story now!_

_**Reactions **_

Dimly lit lights adorned a phonily-leaved tree. And the chilled winter air that clawed at their old sweaters whispered behind their deaf ears and emptily ringing laughter. Present boxes under a plastic tree and scented candles burning down the last millimeter of wick. Cinnamon treats and candy-canes and hot cocoa. Such a pleasant smell floated around the stiff air.

A door opened and the room dropped two degrees as cold, snow-flaked air raced to see who could get into the house first. The door slammed shut almost as quickly as it opened and there was the shuffling sound of snow boots being discarded and heavy sighs.

"It's snowing so hard out there," a gruff voice interrupted excited chattering.

"Ludwig! Merry Christmas!" Feliciano's footsteps rapidly resounded as little _pitter-patter_ and ended abruptly as he swung his arms around the German's shoulder to give him a big hug.

Ludwig staggered forward before regaining his balance. "Merry Christmas, Feliciano. You, too, Antonio."

"Merry Christmas, Ludwig," Antonio waved. "Gilbert's not coming?"

Ludwig shook his head as Feliciano dismounted his soldier. "Something about 'the awesome me is too awesome to spend Christmas with my family! I'm gonna get laid!'"

Antonio laughed.

Blue eyes scanned the room questioningly, chapped lips cracking open, closing again. Words left unsaid as he continued his walk to the tree, laying three gifts under the plastic leaves and colored lights. Silence fell over them for a moment as no one had a topic sitting on their tongue. The wooden floor creaked with every step they took and they all found their place with a batch of cookies on the sofas.

Ludwig looked around the room again, finally asking the question plaguing his mind.

"Where's Lovino? He's not here?"

Feliciano blinked as if he'd remembered something he'd forgotten. "Fratello? I haven't seen him since… Since…"

"You don't know where your brother is?" Ludwig inquired almost accusingly.

Feliciano fell silent. In all honesty, he couldn't remember the last time he saw him. Antonio looked over at Feliciano with hope clinging to his irises. Hope that maybe he did know where he was.

Ludwig stood from the sofa with heavy feet. "Are you going to help me look for him?"

Feliciano stood dazedly and nodded, following after him like a lost duckling and Antonio's head swiveled around, as if expecting to see Lovino standing behind them laughing at them. How stupid they were for thinking he was gone when he was right behind them. _Haha_.

This wasn't a big deal. It's not like he was _missing_, he was simply… misplaced. Not in sight at the moment. So why did the air scream in whispers that things were worse than what they seemed? They were all just being silly. Paranoid, the lot of them.

The first logical thing to do was to call his name, though even calling him for dinner that never worked. And of course the second was to check his bedroom. God knows he spends most his life in there. What he does in there, they wondered.

The door handle moved, and yet the door stayed in place.

Such an unfamiliar scent wafted under the doorframe.

"Feliciano, the door's locked," Antonio called to him.

Feliciano stopped in his tracks, bemusement painted on his face with a thick paintbrush.

"L-Locked? Our doors don't have locks…"

Ludwig stepped forward, muttering a gruff, "Move," and he kicked the door forward.

The hinges of the doors snapped and fell to the ground like jingling bells of a lost toy. The air that moved forward towards them gave them a shudder down their spine; the merrily singing carols vibrating outside thin concrete walls.

Everyone was still for a moment. On the mourning face of the clock, the second hand gripped the minute tightly, pulling it painstakingly forward. The neutral-toned room of grays, whites, and browns was spotted slightly with a new vibrant red that faded to a burgundy with time. A figure, curled up slightly into a ball, laying on his side atop a blanket-stripped mattress.

He looked innocent. His hair fell over his fair-skinned face, much a contrast from his tanned, sun-kissed tone he had a week ago. The hairs swayed slightly by some force no one had any mind to place. He looked as if he was sleeping, finally resting well after a week full of nightmares. The scowl erased from his features and a truly miraculous expression in its place. An expression of extreme sadness, and yet peace.

He was barefoot in his pajamas, not even bothering to change that morning. He looked like a child, ready to be woken up and carried to the Christmas tree, given a present and a Christmas dinner. But in place of a bow and a box lay a razor blade. And much too out of place were his arms covered in scarlet paint in such grace that it could mount its place in the Louvre. Violet streaks around the fair skin, blue lips.

"L-Lovino, it's Christmas," Feliciano's voice was shattered into the shards of a broken glass window.

Lovino didn't roll over, grumbling that he needed an extra two minutes of sleep.

With shaking limbs, Antonio took the first step into the God forbidden room. Jagged breathing that swerved in and around at such angles that once were thought impossible. He hopefully, lowered himself next to his face, expecting him to wake up. _What are you doing Tomato Bastard?_

"Lovino… Why did you…" he whispered, almost as if he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to.

Ludwig remained still at the doorframe, completely shocked and not knowing what to think. He'd always thought Lovino was confident with himself. Cursing others out, not caring what they thought, he'd… He was confident. It never crossed his mind once he would attempt something like this.

"T-There's no note? He ju—just left us?" Feliciano asked broken-heartedly.

"W-We're so _stupid_," Antonio all but screamed. "I-I just…"

Ludwig had finally made it into the room, purposefully avoiding the sight of Lovino on the bed, instead falling on a notebook paper left on the desk, scrawled with letters of his own hand. Paragraphs and paragraphs.

"Sorry… Antonio…" Feliciano's face was dampened with tears now.

No one had to clarify what he'd meant by it, for they'd already known. Antonio's eyes were shut tightly with a pained expression. The little proposal he'd made, that maybe pretending to be in a relationship would make Lovino come out of his little angry shell in favor of jealousy, but instead just leaving things unfinished.

"He left a note," Ludwig said softly and the crinkling of paper could be heard.

No one moved, no one responded.

"Want me to read it?"

Again, silence answered him.

Taking it upon himself, Ludwig sat down next to his bed, in front of Antonio and Feliciano and started reading a strong voice, as to not deter the message.

_"He's beautiful. That's really the only word I can describe him with."_


End file.
